


The Problem With Being A Teenaged Agent

by Theriku260



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Agent Peter Parker, BAMF Natasha Romanov, BAMF Nick Fury, BAMF Peter Parker, Crack Treated Seriously, Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Domestic Avengers, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Nick Fury Knows All, Nick Fury is Not Amused, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Peter Parker is Trying His Best, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Peter Parker is poor, Phil Coulson & Nick Fury Friendship, SHIELD Peter Parker, Teen Peter Parker, Uncle Nick Fury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:37:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24850156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theriku260/pseuds/Theriku260
Summary: Drafted into SHIELD by 'uncle' Fury? Check.Awesome Spider Powers? Of course!Having to pay the bills on a terrible government salary?Nobody told Peter that being in SHIELD was just an excuse for basically free child labor. Or that his landlady would be a psycho ex-agent who gassed those who paid rent late.Honestly, if HYDRA had better pay, Peter might just flip.Just kidding, Uncle Fury would drag him back and dock his pay.Being a teenaged agent was hard, but nothing Peter couldn't handle. If only he didn't catch the attention of a certain super hero team. At least he could free-load off of them!
Relationships: Clint Barton & Peter Parker, Clint Barton/Laura Barton, Nick Fury & Peter Parker, Peter & SHIELD, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Phil Coulson & Peter Parker
Comments: 29
Kudos: 272





	1. A normal day for Agent Parker

**The Trouble with Being A Teenaged Agent**

**Chapter One**

Jumping off a building as it exploded was not how Peter’s mission was supposed to go. The young teenager cackled as he sent a web to attach to the plane that was his ticket out of Beijing, black suit outlined by the moonlight. 

Sure, he would absolutely be given the **,** ‘disappointed dad look **,** ’ but the information Peter obtained made it all worth it. At least, he hoped so; having his mission check be reduced again would result in a very unhappy landlord. Or rather, landlady as the case would be **.**

“Parker!” Ah, there it was, the sweet melody that was his boss’s voice. Oh, how positively pleased the man sounded. “What in the ever-living hell were you thinking?!”

“Ah, Uncle Fury,” Peter whined, climbing up to the open under carry of the plane. “I wasn’t under the impression you wanted my thinking skills? Thought you just hired me for my devilishly good DNA?” The sound of Fury face palming could be clearly heard through the comms.

“First, it is Director Fury to you, you little shit.”

“But I’m your little shit!” Peter piped in. 

“Just tell me you got the intel _before_ blowing up a historical medical research facility?” Fury said, sounding desperate.

“Oh, that? Yeah, easy peezy, lemon squeezy. They never saw me **,** Uncle Fury.” Peter pulled off his utilities belt- recently given live explosives!- as he reassured the man.

Silence greeted his comms. Peter smirked and mentally counted. Three. Two. One.

“Then why the fuck did you blow the building to kingdom come!” 

“Well… at the time, it seemed like a good idea?” Peter said. The comms were thrown across the room after that statement. 

Oh well, not everyone- even family like Uncle Fury- can appreciate Peter’s genius.

SHIELD Helocarrier, hours later…

“And next time I’m putting you on a six-month suspension!” Fury’s threat rang in the private office. Peter froze at the words.

Six-month suspension.

Six months of no spending funds. 

Six months of no rent money.

Six months of being forced into the SHIELD dorms, where all the losers who couldn’t afford rent or had no social lives stayed.

This cannot happen, Peter decided.

“I am deeply sorry, Uncle” Peter paused at Fury’s glare. “I mean, Director Fury. I will control my… urges in the future.”

“Hm. You better, Parker,” Fury said. “You are one of my best, always have been. But I can not keep covering your skinny hide to the council! One more screw up and it will be impossible to justify having a fourteen year old in the field, despite your worth.” His hand ran over his bald head, and Peter felt a tad guilty at the stress he caused. 

Just a tiny bit.

“Yes, sir.” Peter muttered. Maybe blowing up the entire building was a bit much. The top floors would have been plenty.

“Good. Now, go crawl in that cesspool you call an apartment.” Fury ordered, shooing him out.

“Hey! It’s not a cesspool, but a bachelor pad **,** ” Peter said indignantly. 

Fury snorted. “Keep telling yourself that, kid.” 

“Night, Uncle Fury!” 

“Night, Peter.” Fury said this in the same annoyed tone as always, but the slight uplift of his mouth was more than enough for Peter.

“Oh, and your pay has been redacted from the mission. Good luck with rent **,** ” The Director mocked as Peter closed the door, making all the good feelings disappear. 

He was screwed.

**Later…**

One benefit of being employed by the most secret government organization in existence is the ability to ‘legally’ rent an apartment at age twelve by yourself.

Sure, the building was owned by a former SHIELD agent who would fill your apartment with halogenics when you couldn’t pay rent, but it was still a home away from the dorms.

Peter had been renting a studio apartment from old Agent Hammer, (yes, her actual name) since his twelfth birthday, after he managed two consecutive successful missions, which boosted his pay enough for New York life with addition to his normal salary. He figured it would be easy to keep up payments and live frugally until he could buy a nice house in Queens or something.

Oh, how New York City proved him wrong. Money management- even for genius twelve year olds- was hard, and still was at fourteen. Already he’d been subjected to that horrid gas fifteen times, and soon Agent Hammer would just kick him and his pet cactus out onto the proverbial curb.

Well, not if Peter had anything to say about it. He had a job to find that could pay enough for rent and food until his next mission. Somewhere that let fourteen-year olds who had an ID that said they were eighteen work. Under the table, of course, as Peter had no intention of paying more taxes back to his employer, Uncle Sam. 

It also couldn’t be too shady as Fury would send him on a terrible mission again if he got arrested for running guns or body guarding a mob boss.

So, did Peter go searching for this mythical perfect job? Did he carefully research listings on the internet, or try and ask around the neighborhood?

Of course not. No, like any other self-respecting irresponsible teenager, Peter Parker pushed all his troubles aside as soon as he got home and worked on his hobby.

Being a superhero. 

“Yahoooo!” He yelled from the skyscrapers. Yes, swinging in his homemade red and blue suit (read: dyed winter SHIELD suit that he totally did not keep) was the best feeling in the world. Saving people while he did it? Even better. Peter could always do crazy stunts during training, and every mission saved countless lives, but it was too stiff for his liking. Not to mention he rarely saw the effects of his missions in a physical sense.

Being a vigilante let him get the instant gratification and thrills he craved, and Peter could never get over it. Sure, it wasn’t sanctioned, and therefore Fury would probably yell at him again for risking exposure and yada, yada, but in Peter’s mind it was worth it.

“Please! Just let us go,” A woman’s voice echoed in Peter’s ears. He grinned under his mask. Great, his first job tonight. Peter swung down a block and into a dark parking lot behind some buildings. An overweight man in black held a woman and her husband at knife point.

“Just gimme the money, bitch **,** ” The guy ordered. Peter rolled his eyes at the sloppy form and shaky hands. Obviously an amateur. He decided to put the guy out of his misery and landed in a drop kick. The wannabe mugger was out like a light, then safely webbed up. His back to the couple, Peter made sure to do an epic pose.

“Oh. My. Gosh. You’re Spiderman!” The woman said, gushing. Peter smirked and turned around. She and her husband behind her looked at him in awe.

“It is I, citizens!” Peter made his voice deeper, wincing when it cracked. Damnit, puberty! Always betraying him.

The woman giggled. “You’re… a lot shorter than we thought you’d be.” 

“Hey!” He said indignantly, “I’m not short. I'm fun sized, got it? Spiders have to be able to squeeze in anywhere, you know.” Honestly, everybody picked on his size. It’s not his fault his growth spurt was far off in the distant sunset!

“O-of course. Anyways, my husband here wants an autograph.” Sure enough, the silent till then husband who hid behind his wife thrusted out a notepad and pen. 

“Why I would love to,” Peter said, and pulled out a stamp he used for autographs. 

Uncle Fury would drop him from the sky if he ever gave out a handwriting sample to strangers, after all.

By dawn Peter had stopped two more muggings, a robbery, and called an Uber for some drunks. Towards three am he talked down a pregnant woman from shooting her abusive husband and sat with her until the cops showed.

Those always hit him hardest, knowing he did something life changing, both for the woman and her child that won’t grow in the system. She had given him a hug so tight it felt deadly, and he loved every second of it. 

It was the kind of hugs Aunt May used to give him. The kind Peter hadn’t had since he was eight and Fury carried him from his burning apartment building, HYDRA agents sent to acquire Peter dead on the concrete. 

“Well, I’ve officially burned through my endless energy **,** ” Peter muttered. He sat on a roof facing towards the Avenger Tower, counting his last hundred dollars. Now that he played all night, he had to somehow crawl back home and then go out for job hunting and grocery shopping. 

Feeding his metabolism was nigh impossible, and Uncle Fury’s stupid pay redaction was not helping. Regular payday wasn’t for two _whole_ weeks!

The morning dawn was greeted with horns honking, and Peter smiled at the familiar noises. God, how he missed his city on every mission. Even though this last one was barely a week in length, Peter longed for New York every second he was gone. The early June smog was suffocating, sure, but it was suffocating in a loving way.

“Huh. I can’t make it back and old Agent Hammer will probably murder me for late rent anyways… how mad would they be if I jumped off here?” Peter mused aloud. It would solve his money problems, but Fury would just revive him or something and make him pay off the funeral costs.

“Not as mad as I’ll be when I have to catch your free fall, little spider,” a cold female voice said from behind him.

Peter blinked. It wasn’t often someone could sneak up on him, and now his senses were buzzing. Instincts had him pull out his favorite knife, Betty, and leap over the potential threat. A flash of red and black greeted Peter, and when the woman turned, his eyes bugged.

No. Freaking. Way.

“Y-you’re _the_ BLACK WIDOW!” Peter said, fanboying. The Black Widow was legendary in SHIELD **,** (and anywhere, now) and Uncle Fury had raised him on tales of her feats. His first interrogation was completed to her how-to video!

The Black Widow smirked. “And you’re on Fury’s shit list. I was the unfortunate one to be called to make you stop blowing your cover.”

Peter paled. “Shit. Uncle Fury sent you? I am so dead. So, so dead after that last lecture! I thought he’d ignore me for at least another month.” Peter began mumbling, crouching, and gripping his head.

Fury must be really angry about the mission if he was bothering with Peter’s hobby. Rarely did he give more than a passing lecture about it, useless as he believed it to be. It had become something of a ‘teenage rebellion phase’ to Fury, who seemed to think Peter would get bored with being Spiderman. To sic Black Widow on him made Peter wonder if the universe was out to get him.

“Hang on, Uncle Fury?” The Black Widow asked, furrowing her brow.

“Uh… no?” Peter cursed his super spy skills going out the window with his idol’s appearance. 

She smirked. “Oh, Clint will be pleased. Come with me, little spider.” Peter wanted to jump off right then, scurry home before she took him to a torture chamber and made him spill his secrets, but the look she gave was frankly scarier than Fury’s.

Thus, valuing his life, Peter followed.


	2. Meeting The Avengers (The Cool Ones)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting your idols is great... until Fury finds out, that is!

**Chapter Two**

The Avenger’s Tower was… homier than he expected from a bunch of overpaid SHIELD agents.

Yes, Peter was totally salty that some wack jobs (besides Black Widow and Hawkeye, of course) got to dress up in cooler gear, blow stuff up, cause millions in property damage, yet still got paid more than him. Even Tony Stark was paid more than Peter according to Fury’s totally not hacked computer, and he didn’t even need the money!

The universe hated him, clearly.

After they arrived at what Black Widow called their ‘private floor’ via elevator, Peter had to gawk at the comfortable setting that greeted him. Cozy lamps, plush carpets, a large TV with couches, not to mention what appeared to be a kitchen the size of his apartment, made Peter wish he could be an Avenger, if only for the paycheck and space.

And the chance to be with SHIELD’S most awesome agents, of course.

“Enjoy the space, little spider?” Black Widow asked. She sauntered in, and Peter followed.

“Heck yes,” He whispered. Oh, how he wished he could afford those couches. Or any couch, really. Yes, at this point any couch for his apartment would do.

Having just a bed and patio table set was just sad, really.

“Hmm… sit down.” She gestured to what Peter now recognized as bar seating attached to the kitchen. Peter could almost gush at the tactic she was using on him. It was like seeing his dreams come true. Learning from _The Black Widow!_

_‘Wait, you idiot, she’s using her skills on you!’_ Peter thought. He would have to be careful; Fury would be angry if he made people think they were actually related again. Never mind the fact Fury was technically his legal guardian and used to let Peter stay in his New York home until he turned ten and blew it up testing his first web shooters.

He got moved to the dorms for that stunt. Peter called foul for that forced relocation, as Fury had called it ‘genius’, but at least it got him in the field before he could shave.

“So. Tell me, Little Spider, how did one so young become close to Director Fury?” Black Widow asked. There SHIELD’s best operative went, complimenting him in an attempt to learn about his situation. Too bad Fury would kill him if he just gave in.

“U-um, I’m not young! I’m Spider _man,_ not Spider _kid”_ He said with as little voice cracking as possible. His idol snorted.

“I never said you were a kid” She said. Peter paled under his mask. For a fourteen-year old who had successfully infiltrated a Mexican drug cartel for four months (and stopping their multi-state smuggling ring to boot), Peter was failing at keeping his identity secret.

It was just hard being a competent agent around _The Black Widow._ Time to deflect and leave.

“Kid? Pssh, who said kid? Uncle- I mean, Director- Fury would never hire a kid. Now, thank you for letting me see your sweet pad, but I really should be getting home,” Peter said, chuckling as he stood up. Or rather attempted to stand up before Black Widow’s glare stopped him.

“You aren’t leaving until you answer some questions, _Little Spider_ ” She said, voice dripping down to what the videos described as the ‘intimidation range’, said to have a ninety-two percent chance of success.

Too bad for her Peter was no snitch.

“Sorry, but nope! Gotta say, pleasure meeting you- I’m your biggest fan, promise.” Peter said. He flipped over the back of his chair and backed away, looking anywhere but at her gaze. “Now, hope to see you around, after I’m done getting chewed out by Director Fury and all that jazz, Miss Black Widow ma’am, so”

“Five hundred dollars,” She cut in. Peter stopped moving. Black Widow noticed and smirked. “You’re low on rent, based on the rambling from the roof. So, answer some of my questions and your rent problem… disappears.” To emphasize her point, money was deposited on the bar, crisp hundreds calling his name.

“Uh, I mean, Miss Black Widow” He stammered.

“Oh, please, call me Natasha.” She said.

Peter tried to justify telling a loyal SHIELD about his status. On one hand, Black Widow- Natasha- was one of Uncle Fury’s most trusted, and Peter wasn’t exactly hiding while on base. On the other hand, any rumors of his identity and abilities were ruthlessly squashed. Despite having spent time in the dorms and on team missions, Peter was always in a suit, his identity never confirmed. Was five hundred bucks really worth Uncle Fury’s anger?

“Make that a thousand,” Natasha said.

“Deal” He said immediately. Screw loyalty to the man that saved him, that kind of cash would tide him over to the next payday. “So… what do you want to know?”

“Oh, yes, Clint will like you.” Her smirk at the name ‘Clint’ unnerved him, but Peter pushed that thought back along with his fear of what Uncle Fury would do to him.

**Later….**

“… Uncle Fury won’t know I told you anything, right?” Peter asked when he finished playing twenty questions with Natasha, thankfully not being asked to unmask himself. She smirked and gave a nod.

“Fury won’t know what?” A male voice cut into their conversation. Peter whipped his head around to see his other idol standing in the doorway.

Hawkeye had arrived.

“Oh my gosh! Y-y-you’re _AGENT CLINT BARTON- THE HAWKEYE!”_ Peter squealed. He had watched all the sniper how to videos from this guy. Of course Natasha had meant the famous- or really, infamous- Clint Barton, best sniper SHIELD had.

“Yes, yes, bask in my presence, tiny mortal” Hawkeye said, striking a pose.

“For all that is good and explosive in this world, may I have your autograph, Mr. Hawkeye Clint Barton sir?”

“… Sure thing, kid. And call me Clint.” Clint said, already signing an arrow. Peter wanted to hyperventilate, even as he horrified himself.

Meeting one idol was amazing, two fried his brain.

“Enough!” Natasha said as Peter cradled the arrow like it was precious cargo. “Clint, this is Little Spider-”

“Peter!” Peter insisted. Natasha ignored him.

“-the ghost of SHIELD.” Wow. Of course, they knew his moniker. How Peter hated the name, even if Fury found it hilarious the most talkative agent was called a ghost. The fact most agents refused to be near him for some reason probably made the ‘talkative’ point moot.

Clint blinked at Peter, still masked. Suddenly, his face resembled the cat that caught the canary.

“Well, well, Peter the Little Spider, eh? Fury’s pet project, the guy whose file is under more redactions than the Director’s.”

“Uh…” Peter tried to think of something cool, but his brain was fizzling out, stopping completely when a hand is thrusted towards him. Peter accepted the hand shake with too much fanboying for an agent, but this was his idol!

“I am never washing this hand again,” he whispered. A knife was digging into his throat before he could blink, Clint’s eyes becoming steely. Peter refused to flinch but stayed still, and the knife was gone, back to whatever dimension of awesome the archer had.

“No fear. You’re a good agent, I can tell, even if your suit stands out.” Clint complimented. “Why don’t we go spar together? Tony set up this wicked gym.”

“Y-yes! I mean yes of course, Agent Barton!” Peter said, making his voice deeper.

The pair left, forgetting about Natasha, who rolled her eyes. She would let the men bond over bloodying each other up while she got data on ‘Peter Parker’. After talking to the kid- who was fourteen, according to him- she had realized very quickly he was the ‘ghost’ of the organization. No one had seen his face save for some upper level agents and squad members sworn to secrecy on threat of Fury. The only common knowledge fact was his last name- Parker. The name was a dead end, however, as there were over fifty thousand Parkers in the US alone. The age was a dead end, too. He was said to be ten or thirty, and when he began solo missions that had a tendency to end in explosions, most didn’t bother to get to know him.

SHIELD agents enjoyed explosions as much as the next psycho, but Fury’s wrath at the end of all of Parker’s missions were legendary. Some had begun to wonder if Parker was _actually_ a ghost, making the moniker stick out.

Time for some research. Who knew when she’d have a mission with this clearly too hyper fourteen year old? Not that she cared about either of those details; Clint could beat anyone on the hyper scale and she had killed her first human at six- who was she to judge Fury for hiring a kid who hadn’t completed puberty?

It is his budget being blown by teenage impulsiveness, after all.

**Later, Peter’s Apartment….**

Peter collapsed into his bed, grinning. His fridge was full, and Agent Hammer wouldn’t be gassing him. Yes indeed, life was good.

Even if the other Avengers would kill him if they ever found out he helped Hawkeye prank them after their spars (of which Peter won five out of nine, thank you enhanced reflexes). That was future Peter’s problem, however. Now it was time for rest and relaxation, ignoring that Fury would make him into spider stew when they had their ‘Spiderman’ chat.

_“On the highway to hell!”_ Shoot. His phone’s ringer fit perfectly to where he was going if he answered. Or… really if he didn’t answer. Either way he was screwed. Debating the merits of blowing off the world’s top spy, Peter reluctantly answered the phone.

“Oh, hello Uncle Fury,” He said, chipper, “Already have a new mission for little old me? You know, sending the Widow after me was a dream come true.”

_“Shut up you little shit.”_ Ouch. Clearly talking his way out of this one would be tough. Hopefully, Natasha wouldn’t rat him out. _“Get back to base. We need to have a **discussion**.” _With that the line went dead.

Crap. If that didn’t make one’s Spidey senses go off, nothing would.

Swinging into SHIELD’s base was not the usual fun experience that Peter was used to. Even when he shot the wrong head of state last year, Peter hadn’t been shaking in his uniform.

Now he was. Knocking on Fury’s door was met with a terse “enter.” Peter gulped and walked through the gates of hell- sorry, Fury’s office door- and stood at attention while the man who could kill someone with a look stared out the window overlooking New York. He would normally be pestering his uncle figure by now, sitting on the ceiling or swiping pens, but the tension in the room made Peter unable to be his usual idiotic genius self.

“Peter.” Shit. Fury only called him that when it was something serious.

“Yes sir? In my defense, I’m doing it on my off time.” Peter winced as soon as he blurted it out, cursing his not completely developed brain. Teenage irrationality really kicked him at times.

“Shut it. I don’t care about ‘Spiderman’ or whatever the hell you decided to call yourself.” Silence rang in the room. “… Well actually, yes, I _do care._ We’ll be discussing why you sold your safety for a thousand dollars. Speaking of which: are my rules to keep you safe worth only a thousand dollars?! When I sent Agent Romanoff to tell you off, I expected her to have to pay at least five thousand for your name, not a thousand. Not to mention you risked your identity being revealed to the public if she had been anyone other than one of my most trusted agents.”

Honestly, Peter didn’t even bother asking how the man knew about him giving information to Natasha. He was still convinced Fury could read minds, ever since he caught the man finishing the council’s sentences in a particularly trying meeting about budgets.

“But for now, we have bigger fish to fry.”

“Really? Because you’re totally giving me the “Parker is dead” vibes here.” Peter could not help but blurt out. Fury turned around and gave him a stare that could whither orphans quicker than famine.

“You have a mission.”

“Oooh. Don’t I, like, always have a mission though? Since I’m not on probation or anything.”

“Not ones with Agents Romanoff and Barton you don’t,” Fury shot back. Peter blinked. Fury stared. Peter blinked some more.

“You have to be kidding me, right?” He whispered. Peter jumped onto the ceiling as he babbled. “This is the best mission ever. Whatever the mission is, I accept!”

“Good, because you don’t have a choice. Get down here.”

Peter landed on his feet, practically vibrating in excitement. Oh, how he wished he could brag about how awesome his life was about to get. Then, a thought about the convenience of it all hit him.

“Wait a second,” he said, “you had Natasha get me so I would meet her and establish a bond for the mission! You knew I would snitch to her for money (she is my favorite assassin ever, after all).”

Fury brushed off the accusation. “That is not important, and you are getting off topic. Again.” He passed a file over, and Peter begrudgingly took it. It was black, meaning this was an ‘off the record’ kind of mission that Fury viewed as super important. Peter viewed them as super complicated. He had been on a couple of those, and every one of them sucked.

Brazil had him facing a man who took his liver and tried to summon Satan with it. Sure, Peter grew his liver back within a week, but still! His _liver_ had been ripped out with an ancient artifact that still had dried blood on it.

Worse was Fury’s anger at the summoning almost working.

Moscow’s ‘off the record’ mission had him paired with Agent Coulson, his favorite partner. That would usually mean a great mission, but they had been stuck inside the country’s worst prison for two weeks in order to kill some CIA operative that got captured and was going to flip.

Finally, the most recent one of these little side missions had him facing off against Flerkins. Apparently, Fury’s demented ‘cat’ came from a planet full of them, and Goose had been ordered back to face some kind of execution for leaving. Peter won, but at the cost of six weeks in a Flerkin hideout in New Mexico before Goose had ‘talked it out’ with the invading squad or something. Thirteen of those aliens had died by Peter’s hands by the end of it all, and he wished it was fourteen.

Peter had never wished to hurt an animal before having to protect the furry alien Fury loved more than life itself. Seriously, Peter had seen the photo albums, it was far from a healthy owner-pet relationship.

So excuse him if he really didn’t want to go on another one of Fury’s personal missions. They may show his trust in Peter, but they sucked.

“I just payed rent, though!” Peter tried, hoping for sympathy. Being away for potentially months would mean he’d come back to a fumigated apartment.

“SHIELD will cover your rent until you return” Fury said, suspiciously generous.

“… This mission is going to suck worse than the others, isn’t it?” Peter said. Fury looked at him.

“No more than the meetings I have after every one of your assignments.”

Peter sighed at the jab, fully expecting that kind of response. He flipped to the page with all the details, paling.

“I’m deader than your morality” Peter whispered in horror.

Yes. This mission would indeed be worse than any other he had been on. The universe really did hate him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End! Another chapter out, guys. How was it? Writing MCU characters is very tough for me, haha, as it's my first time writing them.  
> Anyways, a couple of things:
> 
> 1\. I mainly write Naruto fics, so this story may not get updated as much as them. I'll update when I can, thank you for understanding!  
> 2\. What mission do you think has Peter ready to turn himself over to the universe? 
> 
> 3\. The other Avengers will meet Peter, probably sooner rather than later. To be honest, I love all the Avengers in fics, but who do you guys want him meeting next after this mission?   
> 4\. Join our discord! We have lots of nice people in it, and while I haven't been as active due to working a bunch of music camps, I do love chatting with everyone!
> 
> https://discord.gg/qx94Msj


	3. Missions With Your Nemesis Will Suck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mission prep and Fury wondering where he went wrong.

**Chapter Three**

**_Last Time…._ **

_“… This mission is going to suck worse than the others, isn’t it?” Peter said. Fury looked at him._

_“No more than the meetings I have after every one of your assignments.”_

_Peter sighed at the jab, fully expecting that kind of response. He flipped to the page with all the details, paling._

_“I’m deader than your morality” Peter whispered in horror._

_Yes. This mission would indeed be worse than any other he had been on. The universe really did hate him._

**With Peter, SHIELD aircraft…**

Pacing the hallways, projecting his feelings of doom, Peter failed to notice the multitudes of agents taking any means necessary to avoid him. There was an unspoken rule within the organization about the ‘ghost’ of SHIELD: when you see him, you avoid him like he has explosives… which he did. Usually the ghost would radiate pouting or disappointment that everyone, but the higher ups avoided him. The fact that something was able to bring him down enough to where he did not notice was terrifying. Best to take the long way around to training and run the extra fifty laps for being late.

Peter noticed none of this, and his mood got worse with each passing moment while waiting for his temporary teammates to arrive.

At first, the mission looked amazing. Protecting a high value asset, to be protected while said asset delivered a priceless treasure to a SHIELD contact during a “Peace Conference”? Perfect for Peter, as peace was just another word for assassinating back-stabbing political opponents. The priceless treasure was actually a weapon able to destroy the planet, something Peter found _very_ intriguing. If they did not have only a week to complete the drop off he would have found a way to test it. Maybe on a HYDRA base.

The next part, where it includes lodging and forty grand to each agent upon completion? Peter was drooling! Never had a mission- much less one of Fury’s ‘off the records’ missions- paid that well! Fancy couch and suburban house here he comes.

That is until the ‘valuable asset’ was just another word for Peter’s nemesis. Fury actually expects him to keep the bastard alive after what he went through in New Mexico last August! The injustice of it, really.

Peter kept grumbling about all the ways he could kill his ‘mission’ while having it look like a suicide and keep the so called treasure intact before deciding to raid the weapon’s room for extra grenades and knives. Did Peter ask to check out said grenades and knives? Did he actually need said grenades and knives for his mission? No and probably not, but he could dream. As he stuffed his back pack (really, more agents should use them, they’re much better for running than _duffle bags_ ) full of thousands of dollars worth of murder tools, a familiar voice made him stiffen.

“Meow.” Oh, why must Peter’s luck suck so bad? Must _he_ show up before the mission even began? As Peter turned around to stare down his nemesis, he could practically _feel_ the bastard’s smugness radiating off his pelt.

“Hello, you glorified garbage disposal,” Peter greeted. His nemesis tilted his head.

“Meow.”

“Yeah, keep playing innocent, why don’t you?” Peter said and crouched down, pointing a knife- from a safe distance- at the Flerken Fury adored. “Just remember: peace conferences have plenty of assassinations, and I’m the best in the business.”

“Debatable, Little Spider,” Natasha said from the doorway. Peter whipped his head up, fanboy mode activating.

“A-agent Romanoff! I didn’t mean to overstep! I was just, uh,” he stammered. Damn, being in his idol’s presence would ruin his reputation at this rate.

“You were just insulting an alien that can withstand a nuclear bomb detonating inside their stomach and has Fury wrapped around its claw?” She raised an amused eyebrow as he continued to flail. “Not to mention claiming you could be better at killing said alien when even I couldn’t?”

That got Peter’s attention. “ _You_ tried offing Goose?” Wow. If he wasn’t already, Peter would have a celebrity crush the size of the moon. Anyone who tried killing Goose was his hero. Didn’t matter that she failed, it was the thought that counted!

Natasha hummed in confirmation. “Everyone has- even Coulson, though he would argue the warhead going off right as Goose ate it was an unfortunate accident. I would be worried if a fourteen year old managed what most of the upper agents only dream of.” She said. Goose sent Natasha an unimpressed look, one she ignored with the skill of an assassin.

Truthfully, Natasha hated any mission with Fury’s alien cat involved. While off the record became synonymous for ‘a great adventure’ to the assassin, she had no desire to deal with the cat’s bullshit. That is why, when the New Mexico mission came up to protect Goose from his own kind, Natasha had been unfortunately unavailable and off the grid. Curse Fury for finding a way to keep her available for this one.

“Hey, Natasha, did you grab the shocker knives I asked for?” Clint asked, popping into the room. His eyebrow raised at the standoff between Peter and Goose. “Yeah don’t even try it kid.”

“W-what?!” Peter made his voice sound painfully innocent. He kept the shocker knife- with five hundred volts- inside his sleeve. Clint gave an unimpressed look.

“I tried using a power line once on the furry bastard. You know what he did? He _ate_ the electricity and had the audacity to purr afterwards. Give it up, and swipe me five of them. Fury wants us in his office.”

Natasha smirked and patted his masked head before following her partner.

“Oh, and Goose is bunking with you this week,” She called. “Senior agent privileges and all that.”

Peter resisted the urge to bang his head against the ceiling, grumbling as he gathered the knives and trudged after his teammates. Goose latched himself to Peter’s shoulder, excitement gleaming in his eyes.

“Remember, Goose gets hurt and I break you” Fury warned the trio as they looked over the rest of the mission.

“Please, it’s not like anyone even knows we have an alien cat with the most powerful rock in the universe resting in its stomach. Relax, Fury” Peter said. He turned the small box around in his hands, marveling that the stone inside could level a city.

Not that Peter wanted to try it, of course. Not without a camera to record it, that is.

“Sir, Little Spider is right; Goose will be safe, as will the stone.” Natasha was used to Fury threatening bodily harm before missions. Failed missions- even un-official ones- reflected badly on SHIELD, something Fury would not allow. It was a miracle Peter lasted this long with his record, she mused.

“Besides, it’s not like we can’t handle any hostiles.” Clint said, polishing his favorite Glock. He was ready to get on with the show and get back to his kids. They were set to move in two weeks and he would hate to have this assignment go from a one week quickie to a six week massacre; Budapest did not need competition for worst mission, the archer decided.

Fury rubbed a hand over his eye and patch. He looked ready to be done with every one, though mostly Peter at this point who was counting an alarming number of grenades and no less than twenty web fluid containers.

“Just… get out of here; Dismissed” He finally said. Three salutes and purr later he was all alone. Fury collapsed in his office chair and pulled out his personal phone, the one with pictures of Peter. Looking through them always brought a smile to his face (not that anyone would ever be there to see it).

Peter on the first day in Fury’s care, lifting up the fridge to grab a stray bullet casing. Such a helpful kid, he was.

Next was Peter’s first summer ‘vacation’ with Fury, learning how to dive off planes, cliffs, and fish with a gun. What a good aim he had! Pictures of Peter learning to drive in Greece and mastering Russian, Spanish, and Chinese followed.

Ah, one of the best videos Fury had came up, when Peter, barely nine, interrogated his first home intruder. The man had broken in for money without a clue that it belonged to the best spy in the world. Peter had been home alone, and decided to interrogate the idiot while following along to Natasha’s “So you want to be an interrogator? How to: the basics” tutorial. By the end of the night Peter knew the idiot’s name, full history, and locations of a notorious gang that got… unfortunately destroyed by a stray flamethrower. Truly a tragedy. It had nothing to do with Peter begging him to ‘stop the bad guys’, of course. None at all.

Endless photos of Peter, from his first day training, his first solo mission celebration, and first time escaping a straight jacket fluttered by. The best by far was when Peter constructed his first pocket missile. That had been cause for Thai food and unlimited time at the shooting range. Such happy times. Fury could only look outside wistfully.

“Where did I go wrong? He was such a great kid, and now he’s out there blowing up buildings and wearing bright colors like a _hero!_ ” Fury sighed and mourned for whatever he must have done wrong in raising Peter to be like him.

_“Sir?”_ Agent Hill’s voice came over the intercom. Fury answered with a grumble.

“Yes, Agent Hill? Is there something you particularly need?”

_“Uh, well, yes sir. The Pentagon found a spy bot on the research facility in Kansas. The scientists have been evacuated until we can send in agents to investigate. I need approval for-”_

“Blow it up” he said dismissively. Better to destroy it all in case the bot was gathering intel inside the servers.

_“E-excuse me, sir? Are such drastic measures really necessary?”_

“It is when I say it is, Agent Hill. Now, release our missiles after confirming the research was backed up. Send Agents Bambi and Pacton to investigate the researchers and bring in anyone suspicious.”

_“Wait! Sir, please, remember that the Pentagon asked us last quarter to cut down on our extreme responses!”_

“Pssh!” Fury scoffed. “Extreme response my ass. Get to it!” With that, Fury cut off the call and continued to wonder what could have turned his pseudo nephew into what he was.

**With Peter, Natasha, Clint, and… Goose, the next day.**

Peter watched Clint drive from the backseat of their assigned vehicle. Goose perched in the back window, soaking up sunbeams and Natasha was going over their itinerary for the thousandth time. They had landed in Britain two hours ago on a cargo plane and were on their way to their lodgings for the week. Peter was dressed like the average British kid, his hair dyed slightly to look more like Natasha’s for the sake of their cover.

“So, kiddo, how did you end up in SHIELD, anyways?” Clint sounded nonchalant, but Peter could see the interest and slight worry in his eyes. Knowing an agent was fourteen under full body armor and seeing his uncovered face were completely different.

Peter hummed. “Let’s just say I thought the pay would be better.”

Silence rang in the car. Then, Clint began laughing, Natasha following.

“You… you thought a _government_ job would pay well?” He asked incredulously. Peter’s cheeks became an embarrassing shade of red.

“S-shut it. At the time it sounded like a good idea. At least they give you free weapons.”

“That they do. Honestly part of the reason I left the Soviets; their weapon budget was so low, I had to steal my victims’ gear” Natasha added. Clint scoffed.

“And here I thought you left for my dashing looks and America’s civil rights.”

“That’s what you think” Natasha shot back without missing a beat. Laughter filled the car, and Peter thought maybe the mission wouldn’t be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End! How was it? Good, bad, ugly? I really wanted to do a mission with Goose, so here it is! Also, Fury really has to realize he's the only one responsible for Peter's 'tendencies' lol.   
> 1\. Shout out to my betas. I haven't really used them this fic, but they still help out!   
> 2\. Fury is a bit OOC, but that's what makes it fun. I'm hoping to come up with more ways to make his and Peter's unique relationship shine through, so any thoughts are welcome!  
> 3\. Remember, this is AU, so Age of Ultron has NOT happened. I have a plan to incorporate some of it in (curtesy of a discord friend) so be on the lookout for that. I just have to rewatch that movie haha.  
> 4\. Join our discord! We have lots of nice people in it, and while I haven't been as active due to working a bunch of music camps, I do love chatting with everyone!
> 
> https://discord.gg/qx94Msj

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo....  
> how was it? I may have just decided to write this after being unable to find a lot of actually good SHIELD Peter Parker stories. Sure, there are a couple of great ones, but rarely does it keep Peter being the little screw up that we all know and love. Also, I adore the whole 'Avengers as family' trope and need to write it in.
> 
> Anyways, this was my first attempt at anything Marvel, so please lemme know how it was?
> 
> Also! Any recommendations for me to read? I began reading in this fandom... five? Seven? Maybe ten days ago? So any recommendations and hidden gems would be appreciated.
> 
> Have a fantastic week,  
> Riku.   
> (ps. Join our discord; Shout out to Dragon- may you survive this semester! Also, super proud of you for working so hard at school.)  
> https://discord.gg/K5C8SYh


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